


you have a mind that makes sight of the weight you took up (you broke and the smoke filled you up)

by bloodaccusedstones



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3533789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodaccusedstones/pseuds/bloodaccusedstones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her lips are warm and soft, and they taste like forest pine, cool morning air, and stream water. You thought they would be cold and rough, tasting like mountain rocks and splintered tree bark,  she is a warrior after all, but in some ways you’re not surprised. She has been pretending to be cold and rough for as long as she’s been Heda. You know she’s soft and gentle, full of grace and such a large capacity to feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you have a mind that makes sight of the weight you took up (you broke and the smoke filled you up)

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings for mentions of blood.

///

You walk into the tent, followed by the tall man with tattoos on his face and sitting upon a throne that’s back looks like bent tree limbs is a girl. A girl with black war paint swooping around her eyes and hair tumbling over her shoulders. A girl twiddling a knife in her hands. 

You suddenly feel nervous. The man’s gruff warning rings in your ears, _“If you so much as look at her the wrong way I will slit your throat.”_ You walk slowly in front of the throne, glancing at the woman with dark skin and a scar under her eye who looks like she wants to scalp you where you stand. You swallow and stand tall, head held up high and shoulders straight.

You must not look fearful in front of the Grounders. Your people need you.

You argue with her, trying to find some way to convince her to help you get your people out of that damn mountain. She doesn’t say anything while you tell her about Mount Weather but the dark skinned woman is doubting your every word.

You can feel the atmosphere in the tent change when you mention Anya. The commander shifts her head and you see her eyes soften ever so slightly. You want to throttle the woman in the corner, trying to screw this up for you. You shake your head and reach in your pocket, fingertips brushing against the lock of hair. You stop when you hear the sound of swords being unsheathed and you keep an eye on the tattooed man while you pull out the lock of hair.

“She told me you were her second. I’m sure she’d want you to have this.” You reach out to the commander, holding the braid of Anya’s hair loosely in your fingertips. You glance up at Tattoo Man and see him looking a bit disbelieving at you.

As you step back, listening to the commander’s voice, you can’t help but feel a bit sorry for these people. Anya was a good warrior, you know this from your fist fight, and she was respected among the Grounders.

She saved you. Not only from a bullet but with the alliance that you were able to forge with the Grounders.

You will forever be indebted to her for that.

///

You have a few bumps before the alliance actually begins. Lincoln’s almost death, Finn’s actual death (you killed him, you murdered him), Lexa telling you love is weakness (you don’t believe her, not with that waver in her voice), Gustus’ poisoning of the cup and Raven’s short but painful torture.

You manage to prove that it wasn’t Raven who poisoned the cup; it was Gustus. As your people cut Raven down from the tree, Lexa’s grab Gustus.

You force down the ache that pulses in your chest when you see Lexa staring broken-heartedly at Gustus.

///

He’s tied to a tree, grunting whenever someone slices open more of his skin.

Raven whispers, “This would’ve been Finn,” and looks at you, looking more grateful than ever.

You can’t seem to feel anything but pain because Lexa, threatening, cold Lexa, is standing in front of Gustus with tears in her eyes.

The crowd is silent, everyone holds their breathes. Gustus leans toward her, eyes narrowing with softness you’ve never seen before.

“Ste yuj,” he whispers.

You have no idea what that means but Lexa blinks a few times, raises her head, and takes a deep breathe. She draws her sword, metal sliding against metal, ringing in the heavy air. She points it at Gustus, her eyes hard. He bows his head, as if nodding to her.

“Yu gonplei ste odon.” She twists her wrist and pushes the blade into his stomach. He groans, looks at her, and bows his head, dead.

As she pulls her sword from his limp body, she gasps slightly, and looks down at his blood on her blade. You can’t help but feel awful because you did this. It’s obvious that Lexa cared for Gustus; he protected her for who knows how long. And she had to kill him because of you.

“We’re not so different, are we?” Your mother asks.

As Lexa looks at you, eyes shimmering with blame and gratitude at the same time, you realize that you aren’t so different. They’re not savages or animals; they’re people trying to survive.

They’re people who have made a living in this world. People who love and grieve just as you do, have feelings just as you do. They’re just trying to survive, just like you are.

No, you’re not different at all.

///

_Holy fucking shit. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? Oh hell. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit. OH MY GOD IT KILLED HIM. OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK. Shoot it shoot it yes yes. I’ll shoot it once...IT THREW A ROCK AT US OH FUCK. Die die die die die die die die di- oh. Oh it’s dead. Oh fuck that was crazy. Whew...that was close...OH SHIT ITS BACK NOT DEAD ITS NOT DEAD. RUN!_

“Run!”

_Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Run! Run run! Run holy shit. shit shit shit shit. Oh goddamn it. Of fucking course. Wait, oh shit its right there. Fuck it just jump._

You jump.

///

You hear a loud cry and you looks behind you. Lexa is laying on the ground and jeez you don’t need this right now. You run to her, grab her arm, and drag her to an opening in the wall. You help her through it but suddenly it’s right fucking there and it’s pulling on Lexa’s leg and _oh shit no_. You need her. Lexa grabs onto a pole, screaming at you to leave her.

Like _that_ was ever an option.

You end up emptying your mag in the gorilla’s face. Which is good because it let go of Lexa and you grab onto her and yank her past you, kick the pipe that's holding the door open, and haul ass into the room you see, kicking in the door. You place Lexa on the ground and snatch her sword from her and use it to barricade the door.

You step back, listening to the growls and roars coming from the beast, and look and a wounded and slightly pissed off Lexa.

_Well, that was close._

///

You jump awake when you hear a banging on the metal door. You’re breathing heavy because you do _not_ want to deal with that thing again.

“It’s okay,” you swing your head around. Lexa. “You’re safe.”

Somehow, between her green-grey eyes and and jumping of your heart, you believe her. You stare at her for a few seconds, taking in how young she looks without any war paint on. She has a gentle quality about her face, something kind, youthful that is swiped away and replaced with coldness with a swoop of black war paint across her face.

“How’s your arm?”

“Hurts.” She holds your gaze, never blinking. Even with the pounding and screeching coming from behind you, you can’t seem to pull your gaze away.

You never really can.

///

Fire. Fire and screaming. That’s all you notice. That’s all you hear.  And it’s your fault. You killed them all. You could’ve warned them about the missile, saved them, done something.

But you didn’t. You didn’t. They’re all dead because of you.

///

“Victory stands on the back of sacrifice.”

///

You want them to burn. All of them. All of the Mountain Men. Set them on fire as they did to your people. They will die.

And you’ll kill them all.

///

You kill the sniper.

You don’t feel any better.

///

“What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just kill everyone you don’t trust.”

“Yes I can.”

“Well I won’t let you!”

You hear her sigh. “You were willing to let her die two days ago. Nothing has changed.”

“You’re wrong. I have. I can’t do this anymore.” You turn around, angry at her for trying to kill Octavia, your _friend_ , after you said not to.

“Octavia is a threat,” you hear her stepping close to you. You huff and turn to face her. “If you weren’t so close to her you would see that.”

 _The fuck?_ “It’s _because_ I’m close to her that I know she’s loyal. Her brother is more important to her than anyone. She would _never_ endanger his life.”

“And you’re willing to risk everything on that? And your feelings?”

“Yes.” You lean forward, eyes hard. You’re tired of this, ‘love is weakness’ bullcrap. “You say having feelings makes me weak but you’re weak for hiding from them. I may be a hypocrite Lexa but you’re a liar.”

She raises her head at that. She’s pissed. Good.

“You felt something for Gustus,” you take a step forward. “You’re still haunted by Costia,” you keep walking forward, forcing Lexa to step back. “You want everyone to think you’re above it all but i see _right-_ ” she runs into a table, stopping her movements. You keep walking until you’re in her face. “-through you.”

You’ve hit a nerve. Her eyes become harder than the steel of her sword but you know her better than that. She’s not so frightening when you know she’s just hurt. That and she has tears shimmering in her eyes.

“Get out,” she grits through her teeth.

“Two hundred and fifty people died in that village. I know you felt for them. But you let them burn.”

She swallows, looking back and forth between your eyes.

“Not everyone...not you.”

 _What?_ You take a small step back. _Oh._ She cares for you. You should’ve noticed before.

“Well of you care about me than... _trust me_. Octavia is not a threat.”

She blinks a few times, trying to clear the tears in her eyes. She looks to the side and you wait for her response. You feel something pull at your chest, the same feeling that made your chest ache back when she killed Gustus.

You don’t like seeing her upset. You don’t. You only want her to just listen to you and to show some feeling for something.

She’s not cold. She’s not heartless. She’s human. She just needs to show something for once. She’s not heartless. She’s not.

“I can’t do that.”

Well, maybe she is. You’re frustrated. You want this to be over with.

“I can’t sacrifice my people anymore. If you do anything to hurt Octavia, I’ll tell everyone we knew about the missile.”

It’s a low blow. You know that. You don’t have much of a choice. You must protect your people. You must.

///

Victory stands on the back of sacrifice.

Lexa’s feelings must be sacrificed. You have to keep your people safe.

///

_Notyounotyounotyou._

///

The next time you walk into her tent, she kisses you.

Her lips are warm and soft, and they taste like forest pine, cool morning air, and stream water. You thought they would be cold and rough, tasting like mountain rocks and splintered tree bark,  she is a warrior after all, but in some ways you’re not surprised. She has been pretending to be cold and rough for as long as she’s been Heda. You know she’s soft and gentle, full of grace and such a large capacity to feel.

You could kiss her forever.

But you don’t have forever (you have to save your people). You pull back, instantly missing the feeling of her lips on yours.

But you tell her not yet (you repeat it in your head because soon, soon you’ll kiss her again).

///

Victory stands on the back of sacrifice.

///

Lexa seemed to remember that when you’re at the mountain under enemy fire, blood and screams being splattered in the air.  

///

You watch as Lexa walks away from you, taking her army and Lincoln with her.

You watch as she takes your only hope at getting your people out of that godforsaken mountain.

You watch your heart shatter upon the dirt, pieces being covered in mud and blood.

You watch everything fall apart.

///

You run into Octavia in the reaper tunnels. You spot the cut on her neck and ask her what happened.

“I have no home,” she says.  

It’s short and to the point, cutting words deeper than they should.

You aren’t Octavia. You weren’t living under the floorboards on the Ark for years and years or never really belonging with the Sky People or the Grounders. Octavia has always been an outsider, never really fitting in. She’s always been strong without having people to call her own, without having a home.

You admire her for that.

But you, you are Clarke Griffin, daughter of Abigail and Jake Griffin, two of the most important people on the Ark. You have been given the name “Princess.” You have eaten dinner and joked with Chancellor and Wells Jaha. You have always been important. You have always had people, always had a home.

Or so you thought.

Being here, on the ground, smelling moss and seeing things you only dreamed of painting and read about, you realize you thought wrong. Down here, things are wild, untamed, untouched, bare. Rugged and honest. Not cold and metal skeleton, like it was on the Ark. You aren’t the princess here. You aren’t sheltered. You’re a murderer. A killer. A leader that doesn’t lead the way you want to. You don’t even want to be leader. You never asked for this.

And you don’t have a home.

You thought your home was the Ark; you thought the camp and the ground was your home; you thought Tondc was your home.

You thought Lexa could be your home.

But she walked away from you, head high and steps unwavering.

She was becoming your home.

Now that she’s gone, you don’t know what your home is.

You guess you don’t have one.

**Author's Note:**

> well, its been a while. my bad. i havent been feeling well at all and my motivation has been shit so. but hopefully with this fic, no matter if its a bit shitty or not, ill get back in the swing of things. and if it was shit...im a bit rusty, okay? lets hope i start writing a bit more.


End file.
